


you know, we all speak to demons sometimes

by prohibitionspiderman



Series: like the stars in the sky, we could live out our lives [4]
Category: Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse (2018)
Genre: Gen, and then is shocked when people respond with basic human kindness, archive warning isnt a major thing like, as usual, but im adding it anyway just to be safe, completely self indulgent, generic hurt/comfort, i feel obligated to state here that ive decided my canon has no romance between noir & felicia, i project my own trauma onto noir, i think its only a few throwaway lines, its not important to the story its just important to me, noir throws out his trauma like its no big deal, steals elements from the comics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-06
Updated: 2021-01-06
Packaged: 2021-03-16 15:41:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28584408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prohibitionspiderman/pseuds/prohibitionspiderman
Summary: Noir learns that apparently terrifying omnipotent spider gods bestowing the curse of power upon you isn't the universal Spider experience. Who knew, right?
Relationships: Miles Morales & Peni Parker & Peter B. Parker & Peter Benjamin Parker & Peter Porker & Gwen Stacy
Series: like the stars in the sky, we could live out our lives [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1842580
Comments: 10
Kudos: 90





	you know, we all speak to demons sometimes

**Author's Note:**

> fair credit to @Make_or_Blake for the idea for this bc while ive got a whole longer project in the works abt noir and his spider trauma to project my OWN spider trauma onto, it never once occurred to me to write smth shorter that i could actually finish within like. 3 days. god i miss the days when 11 year old me could write pages of warrior cats fanfic without worrying about whether or not it was perfect  
> anyway for context: this is set like. very shortly after the gang gets reunited. theyre still getting to know each other without the whole "the multiverse WILL implode if we don't figure this out" over their heads. this is also why noir assumes that all their tragic origin stories are as batshit insane as his.

As a rule, Noir did not get attached to people. 

It was a strict rule, one he didn’t break often. The most recent example of breaking away from it was Felicia and they both suffered the consequences for that, her more so than him. As a result, he stuck to that rule even more strongly than before. It wasn’t for him -  _ god _ , did he miss Felicia and her level-headed words, but that pain was manageable. No, what was unbearable was the fact that she suffered because of him. Easier to nip that problem in the bud by keeping people at arms’ length from the beginning. The people he loved couldn’t be hurt because of him if they weren’t around him. 

Even with that in mind, he figured there was no harm in letting himself think fondly of the Spider-people (and pig) he met in a whole other dimension. After all, he was probably never going to see them again, right? 

Wrong. They came back. And while ultimately he considered his interdimensional friends to be one of, if not the best part of his life, it wasn’t as easy as laughing along with Peni as she explained how to work the interdimensional transporter she made from scratch. Sure, they seemed to want him around - and Noir could come up with a million reasons why they shouldn’t - but it was only a matter of time until something went wrong. That’s how it was in his dimension - that’s how it was with  _ him _ . And he wasn’t sure he could take it if another person he loved was hurt because of him. 

But apparently he's more selfish than he wants to admit, because he finds himself once again outside of his own dimension, surrounded by the people that he's starting to feel like he can trust. 

They're gathered at Aunt May's house in Miles' dimension - the place that's become a sort of unofficial meetup spot, more due to May herself than any of their own inputs. She seems to be comforted by having them around - an echo of the nephew she lost. Noir's glad their presence can provide that much. 

He's sitting cross-legged on the couch, turning the now familiar squares of the cube in an attempt to appear occupied, aware of Ham's weight leaning against his knee. The fella's real touchy-feely - it seems like he goes out of his way to find reasons to interact with him, from climbing to perch on his shoulder to leaning over to put a hand on his arm while he explains something new about colours. Noir hasn't decided how he feels about that yet. Maybe that's just how Ham is. It's interesting to note that Noir seems to be the only one he's so friendly with, though. 

Peni is with them too, this time without her robot, sitting on the floor with her backpack in her lap, occasionally reaching in to pull out some colourful snack. There’s a smile on her face as she chimes into the conversation to share another comment from her spider friend, who’s settled comfortably on her shoulder. Gwen and Miles are both situated at the other end of the couch, Miles reclined cozily with his feet dangling off the side and Gwen perched at the very top of the couch, her own legs draped over Miles’. Peter B (who Noir finds it strange to look at - unlike him, the guy never wears his mask. It’s like looking into an older, less battle-scarred - albeit colourful - mirror) has claimed the only remaining chair for himself, draped over it comfortably and, like Miles, his legs hanging over the arm of the chair. 

It’s quite a heartwarming scene. One thing that carries over to each of them is the loneliness that comes with being a Spider-person - as Peter B put it, “ _ Most people I meet in the workplace try to kill me _ .” Noir’s sure he’s not the only one who feels something like contentment around a group of people who probably won’t try to kill him. While that feeling of not-quite-contentment is welcome, it still doesn’t seem to stop him from continuing the habit of isolating himself from others even while being in the same room as them. 

He can’t imagine anything more comforting than this, in a whole other dimension full of colour, surrounded by these people that he’s becoming even fonder of with each day that passes. He’s only been to Miles’ and Peni’s dimensions so far (Ham keeps trying to convince him to visit his cartoon world with him, but honestly Noir’s not sure he’s prepared to experience any of the zany things Ham talks about first-hand) but both of them lack the  _ suffocation _ that comes with his own dimension. His thoughts don’t feel so dizzy - so out of his control. He can’t feel the Spider-God in this dimension - he can’t feel her presence in every moment, every word that floats through his mind. And even if all the colours had been overwhelming at first, he’d managed to adapt to the brightness until he’s comfortable being surrounded by them. Even if he hesitated to trust people, he trusted his senses, and they told him that the ones around him were safe. 

It didn’t change the fact that he was still afraid to trust  _ himself _ with these people. Case in point: why he was sitting here in silence, fixated on the cube in his hands, listening to the enthusiastic conversation going on around him rather than actually being a part of it. 

At least, he was until Ham yet again says something completely bizarre. 

“You know, my aunt bit me.” 

Noir’s kind of tuned out of the last few minutes of the conversation, but he remembers what they were talking about before his thoughts drifted into no man’s land: the details of their origin stories. “Your aunt’s a spider?” he says before he can catch himself. 

“No, why?” Ham’s jolly response doesn’t make any more sense of the situation but at least the fella seems to brighten up even more now that Noir’s actually taking part in the conversation. “She’s a pig, like me! Well, sort of. I did spend about two weeks having an existential crisis after I got bitten.” He drops this information in his usual nonchalant tone that makes it hard to tell whether or not he’s joking. Noir’s about to ask him if he plans to elaborate further before he says, “Anyway, what about  _ you _ , Edge? Is your origin story any more wacky than the rest of us? Was the spider that bit you secretly a Nazi?” 

Noir blinks, aware that his mask makes him appear expressionless and glad for it. It’s taken a long time to get to the point where his only response to being reminded of her is that small, but all the same he’d still prefer that it wasn’t noticeable to his new friends. He’d rather not appear weak in front of them. 

Realising he’s been silent for too long, he says, “No.” He stays quiet for another moment, expecting one of them to say something, but no-one prompts him. Ham’s weight shifts against his knee as he moves to take on a more attentive pose. What was so comfortable before suddenly feels like it’s burning his skin. 

“No,” he says again, lifting one hand to adjust his glasses, only to remember that he’s wearing his mask. In an attempt to cover that anxious movement, he draws his legs up to his chest, unintentionally dislodging Ham from where he had been leaning. He expects him to say something in protest, but Ham says nothing. 

“It was-” he begins, intending to minimize what actually happened so that he doesn’t have to dwell on it any longer than necessary, but then he looks up to the others again. 

They all look so  _ earnest _ . Peni’s eyes are wide with curiosity, Miles is watching with a lingering smile on his face from the earlier conversation. Peter B’s face is a bit more sombre, like from Noir’s reaction alone he expects something upsetting. To be fair to him, that seems to be the trend with Noir’s dimension. Gwen’s expression is one of uncertainty, like she’s not sure what to expect. And then there’s Ham. 

Noir expected him to be harder to read since, like him, he’s always wearing his mask. But maybe Noir’s skill at reading people extends to cartoon pigs dressed up in a spider-suit as well, because it’s easy to tell that Ham’s trying to figure out a way to backtrack the conversation so that Noir doesn’t have to say anything after all. And maybe it’s that kindness that prompts him to change his words. “She was a god.” 

Silence. Then Ham tilts his head. “Go on.” 

Noir shrugs noncommittally, already starting to regret his change of heart. “Standard Spider stuff. Said I lacked evil intent, declared she would ‘bestow upon me a greater torment’, y’know, ‘ _ the curse of power _ ’ and all. It was dark and I couldn’t move and then there she was, some creature that wasn’t quite human but wasn’t quite spider. I thought it was some terrifying hallucination but then I woke up and realised hey, would you look at that, I can shoot webs now.” He expects this to garner some sort of reaction, most likely a laugh at the shared torment (hah) they as spider-people were cursed with, but all he gets is silence. In an effort to break that silence, he adds with a laugh that he hopes doesn’t sound as strained as he feels, “Is she as incomprehensible in your dimensions, too?” 

Peni looks around the gathered Spiders with an uncertain expression. “Noir…” she says slowly, like she’s afraid to speak. 

Gwen speaks for her. “None of us saw anything like that.” 

Her voice is gentle, the words spoken in a way that doesn’t sound accusing, but Noir still feels like the ground has disappeared underneath his feet. More than it had, anyway. “You didn’t?”

Miles shakes his head as Peter B speaks up. “I certainly didn’t. If I did, I wouldn’t sleep for a week.” 

“Edge.” Ham’s soft voice comes as a surprise, and Noir turns to see that he’s placed a careful hand on his knee. When did he do that? “Is that sorta thing… normal, for your dimension?” 

Noir blinks, not sure how to respond. “I guess?” he says finally, aware of how drained his voice sounds. “What was it like when you were bitten?” 

Shrugging uncomfortably, Miles says, “I dunno, man. I didn’t even know anything had changed till the next day.” 

“I was on a field trip,” Gwen chimes in. “It was the same for me. I thought it was a normal spider.” 

“For me, it was like my head just  _ lit up! _ ” Peni says with a bit more excitement than the others. _ “ _ I was scared and I didn’t know what to think, but then I heard SP//dr’s voice telling me it was okay.” Her expression becoming more concerned, she says, “Noir, was it really that scary for you?” 

Without really noticing it, Noir draws further into himself. “You make it sound like it was the devil or something,” he says quietly. “I’ve seen worse.” 

“You’ve seen  _ worse? _ ” Oddly enough, Peni sounds even more distressed by this. “What’s  _ worse? _ ” 

“The other guy who got bitten was eaten alive by the rest of the spiders,” Noir says absently in the interest of not touching Uncle Ben or what happened to Robbie with a ten foot pole in this conversation. That familiar feeling of suffocation is back in his chest, gripping him with ice cold claws. “I was lucky.” 

He’s met, once again, with silence. This time he doesn’t say anything to change that because he feels like, if he did, his voice might break. This is it - this is going to be what chases them away. He should’ve known better than to tell them all that, because it was  _ crazy _ and he  _ knew _ it was crazy, had agonized over it himself for years since he was bitten. He’d let himself get too comfortable, and now he was going to lose the only people who had ever understood him because he’d said too much. 

“ _ Jesus _ ,” comes Peter B’s exasperated voice through the fog, and Noir mentally prepares himself for rejection, before Ham’s voice cuts in. 

“ _ Man _ , Edge, you can’t just drop stuff like that on us and expect us to not be concerned for you.” 

Noir blinks, finding himself suddenly lost. “What?” 

“I know you’ve got your whole tough guy ‘ _ I’m the lord of darkness, I fear nothing and I don’t feel emotions _ ’ thing going on,” Ham continues without any sort of acknowledgement, “but to the rest of us that’s a lot! You know, my Aunt May always said that the best cure to sad memories was a long hug. What do you say to that?" 

"Uh…" Trying and failing to get a handle on the situation, Noir offers, "Swell advice?" 

"That's all I needed to hear," Ham says in a sage voice. 

Before Noir can ask what that means, Ham vaults over his legs and crashes into his chest, wrapping his arms around his waist. He's followed by Peni throwing her own arms around his shoulders, leaning against the arm of the couch to keep her balance. Moments later Miles joins them with a laugh, placing himself on Noir's other side as he joins the impromptu hug. Through his bewilderment, Noir catches Gwen's fondly amused expression as she climbs down from the top of the couch and puts her own arms around them. 

"Ah, what the hell." Peter B's voice is the only warning Noir gets before yet another pair of arms join the hug. In an instant, this situation has gone from terrifying to confusing. 

"Uhh," he says hesitantly, unsure of how to respond. "What is this?" 

"Jeez, nice things don't happen to you often, do they, Edge?" Ham's voice is matter-of-fact, but not condescending. "It's called a group hug! We made you tell us that sad story, so now we're joining forces to make you feel better." 

Noir still isn't sure he knows how to respond. It's sweet - quite the opposite of what he'd been expecting. He doesn't remember the last time someone touched him without malicious intent behind it. A rush of relief comes with the realisation that they  _ do _ believe what he told them, or at the very least believe that  _ he _ believes it to be true. He'd been so afraid that they would confirm his fears, say that he  _ was _ crazy and that what he saw was unbelievable, but here they are.  _ Hugging  _ him. "Why?" he breathes, finally feeling grounded in reality for the first time since this conversation started. 

"Because you're one of us, silly!" Peni says through laughter. 

"Yeah, man," Miles adds. 

"Us spiders gotta stick together," Ham chimes in from his spot at Noir’s chest. 

"You're stuck with us now." The smile is audible in Gwen's voice. "No take-backs." 

Peter B groans. "Guess I gotta say something mushy too. The multiverse brought us together, we gotta look after each other, yadda yadda yadda. You get me." 

Noir does. For the first time he feels like being the Spider-Man has brought something other than pain. This time it's brought him something good, something wonderful, and maybe this time it will stay. 

Instead of voicing those thoughts, he says, "This isn't how people would respond in my dimension." 

"Yeah, well." Ham's voice is quietly indignant. "We're not in your dimension. And I'm a  _ pig _ ." 

Thoroughly out of rebuttals (though he's sure he could come up with more if he tried, but he finds that he doesn't want to) Noir decides that maybe, just maybe, he can stop clinging so tightly to that old rule. These people can look after themselves, and they’ve made it clear that they’ve already decided to look after each other as well. For the first time he’s surrounded by people who already know what dangers come with the job, and who have made their peace with it. Maybe, for once, he can stop listening to that voice that tells him it’s dangerous ( _ selfish _ ) to stay. But ultimately he decides that he can contemplate that later. 

Right now he feels more at peace than he has in a long time. 


End file.
